


Guiltless

by crookedneighbour



Series: Those Without [1]
Category: Loveless, Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Cooking, Food Kink, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Graphic Violence, Punishment, Spanking, Telepathic Bond, Telepathic Sex, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 13:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a request. An AU fic set in the Loveless universe where Schuldig is Brad's fighter. After a fight Brad punishes Crawford for letting him be injured, and the games begin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guiltless

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of a series and as I continue them will undergo slightly changes to make continuity better work between the series. The basic premise is WK takes place in a Loveless like AU.
> 
> I think the story is mildy dub-connish as it is ambiguous whether Schuldig's interest is made from his own mind or a thought he is reading off of Crawford.

Schuldig nuzzles himself into the lap of his sacrifice. He has removed his shirt, and let his hair down. The excitement of battle is still humming in both of their heads, and the feeling intoxicates him. Everything in him is buzzing, feeling the sharing the soft glow of Brad's endorphins. After the fights everything bleeds together, him, Brad, present, future. They're all the same to Brad, and thus to Schuldig.

Crawford shifts in his clothes, and before his body changes Schuldig can feel his excitement.

'What is it?' 

'You let me get injured. You failed me as my fighter.'

Crawford's thoughts are cold in his head, and they make Schuldig's forehead feel numb. His sacrifice wants to hurt him, and the thought excites him. Crawford's arousal already has him turned on, and the thought of further violence makes him press his hips into Brad's.

'Then punish me, hmm?'

'It doesn't happen now.' Though aroused, Brad seems certain in his verdict.

Schuldig pouts a little, sitting up in bed. He shifts to move from the blow Brad is clearly thinking about, but finds that his lover has predicted that too. Brad grabs him by the hair, the pain rippling across Schuldig's thought field.

"That doesn't mean you can leave.'

Schuldig has always wondered if Brad feels the same thing he does. The tangling of nerves and thought into one seamless pond. There are times like this, when Brad surprises him... Schuldig giggles for a moment. It doesn't matter. Brad is his other half. That's enough to keep him around isn't it? Not to mention the....

Brad pulls him back into the bed.

'Undress me.' Schuldig undresses him slowly, taking the time to fold Brad's clothes how he likes them. He can rumple them later. Brad raises an eyebrow at him, clearly aware of this turn. Schuldig blushes, smirking at the transgression.

Schuldig takes his time, admiring Crawford's body, even the blood is handsome on him... Correct that, especially the blood. As he begins to place soft kisses on his sacrifices chest, Brad guides his head lower and lower, Schuldig's lips hovering near his semi-hard erection.

As Schuldig goes to place his lips, there is a sting as Brad hits him across the face.

"Did I tell you to?" Crawford speaks out loud for the first time There is anger in his voice and the tie between them suddenly severs. The effects on Schuldig's mind are immediately sobering.

"You thought about it," whines Schuldig, the afterglow of the blow making him smile.

"Why are you smiling?"

This time it's the back of his hand, and much harder. Schu's head actually moves with the blow a bit, and he finds himself both dazed and giddy from the pain of it.

Schuldig looks back over to Brad, whose arousal has clearly grown from hitting him. He knows Crawford likes him this way. Schuldig would have to work harder to hide his pleasure at this.

"It's nothing..." Schuldig teases, making his voice as coy sounding as he can. Schuldig readies himself for the next blow, the anticipation filling him Brad studies him coldly for a few seconds.

"Make me dinner, and then change my bandages I can take care of this myself," he orders, shoving Schuldig out of bed.

"Asshole...." mutters Schuldig, catching himself after the short fall. As he gets dressed he glowers back at Brad.

Brad simply raises an eyebrow at him, as he begins to masturbate from the comfort of their bed.

Schuldig sneaks a few glimpses at Brad as he starts the meal. As he washes the vegetables, he watches Brad methodically work his own shaft. As the water boils, he eyes the trickles of sweat down Brad's chest. He can hear the grunts of Brad's climax as he cracks the egg over the rice.

More than once he is tempted to slip is hands down his pants right there, but he knows Brad is testing him. In the end that what makes them some strong combatants, their force of will and the way they keep on driving each other forwards. Being aroused by the whole affair is really just an added bonus.

How he'd love to watch those two pretty boys bleed out. Aya's long red hair matching his blood, his body shackled helplessly. Then Yohji, so loyal, crying over his sacrifice's body. The thought made him want to run back to Brad right then.

Brad watches as Schuldig brings the bibimbap in on a tray, the endorphins of both his pain and orgasm seamlessly bleeding together. Their meal is silent. Brad says nothing and each time Schuldig is about to start, a smack to the wrist or a stern glance shuts him up.

Schuldig watches as Brad carefully eats his meal, his manners fastidious. He's already hard again, enjoying every movement his lover makes. His lips around the fork, the bulge in his throat as he swallows, the flick of his wrist as he shifts through the rice. The bandages around his chest have mostly dried and the blood has turned a dull brown. 

Schuldig carefully unwinds the bandages. The isolation of the silence is finally starting to kick in. Even when they don't speak feeling Brad's mind has a certain comfort to it.

When he comes back from bringing in the plates and retrieving new bandages, Crawford is sitting at the edge of the bed expectantly.

He mindlessly follows the protocol Brad has laid out for him. Alcohol swab, disinfectant cream, clean off the extra, wrap the bandage. There is a look of approval from Brad, who even seems to feel affectionate enough to patronizingly pet him. He smirks at gesture, and for a second he thinks he catches a smile on Brad's face. Which should probably worry him. Or excite him. 

"Recite your spell for me," he orders. This takes Schuldig by surprise for a moment. But he begins anyway.

"We are without remorse, the twisting of a blade with no regret. Turning your words inside out, night falls like so many corpses. We are the inevitable darkness. We are Guiltless."

"Good."

Brad rises from bed, still naked. He grabs Schuldig firmly by the wrist, a flush of excitement running through Schuldig. A red string appears around each of their wrists and the connection between them re-opens. He is already losing himself now.

Brad nudges him, and Schuldig places his arms against the wall like Brad wants. He doesn't bother starting lightly. The fight and the sight of Brad naked and erect has already got him warmed up.

First his thighs, the pain thudding against him. He throbs slightly with each blow, feeling Crawford's eyes on him. This is only the beginning.

A flurry of impulses crash over him. Brad's fingers on him, scratching his hips, pinching his nipples tugging his hair. The blows get stronger as they hit the cheeks of his ass. Schuldig arches his back, hissing with the pain. He bites his lip, a low moan rattling from his throat.

Brad hasn't even touched him yet, but he's aching with the thoughts he can feel. He is screaming face down into the bed as Brad pounds him. He is standing over Aya in his chains. His lips are on brad's cock. Farfarfello is Brad's blank fighter, cutting through Weiss. As he draws close to climax it suddenly stops.

"Brad..." he begs softly. His legs quivering in his arousal, and he wants to fall on his knees for him right then and there. He wants to wrap his mouth around Brad's dick and suck him off until he comes. He wants this more than anything else. More than the victories, more than the blood. He wants Brad thrusting inside him, and he wants it to hurt.

Brad clicks his tongue, and looks down smugly at Schuldig.

"It happens now."


End file.
